Oh, How I Wonder
by ElegantArrow 64
Summary: Your name must have been added to the book, thats why you're here." Mello smiled, staring at the ebony haired boy. "If you ever want to get back home, you'll have to erase it when he isn't looking." Light/L Matt/Mello B/L Alice in Wonderland inspired AU


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Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters.

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'After all, the world is not a stage -- not to me:

nor a theatre: nor a show-house of any sort.

And art, especially novels, are not little theatres where the reader

sits aloft and watches... and sighs, commiserates, condones and smiles.

That's what you want a book to be: because it leaves you

so safe and superior, with your two-dollar ticket to the show.

And that's what my books are not and never will be.

Whoever reads me will be in the thick of the scrimmage,

and if he doesn't like it -- if he wants a safe seat in the audience --

let him read someone else.'

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- D.H Lawrence

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A book was a wonderful thing.

Or at least… a 'good book ' was a wonderful thing. But deciphering a good book from a bad book was a rather difficult process though one would think it not. You may spend hours going through your library picking out old favorites and tossing aside published failures only to find that the choices you have made don't apply to everybody in your household. No matter how atrocious you found Harper lees 'To Kill A Mockingbird,' someone is bound to hold a soft and subtle place for it within the secrets of their heart while another may despise your forever treasured and beat up copy of 'Pride and Prejudice,' thinking it a sad and sorry excuse for a love story. It was because of this fickle fact, that Lawliet never bought any books for himself during his thirteen years at the orphanage in which he resided since he was three, curious and thirsty for everything that could fill his brain with pictures and explanations. The need for books was overwhelming- but still he refused text in any form if it came from somebody else.

The only books he trusted were those meant to be borrowed.

And they consumed him entirely.

It wasn't that Lawliet wasn't 'social,' as many would predict. He was the brightest and smartest of the kids at the orphanage and they looked upon him with love and hatred- love for his quirky, young nature and hatred for the soul fact that no one would ever be able to rip him of his title. It was a competition openly excepted amongst the collection of orphans, male and female, young and growing. But Lawliet admired and hated them in his own way.

Lawliet already had his future planned out for him- he never had a say.

His life was like a book, published and shelved before it even had a chance to be read over- cleared of all mistakes.

And there were _many_ mistakes.

"No book should have a mistake." he whispered to the shelves as he stood in the massive library, packed with wads of books and papers which had gathered over the years. Rodger had allowed him access to the library upon request and he kept the key in his pocket at all times, enjoying the privacy while the others played outside, chilled to the bone by the autumn air. Summer had been scared off early by the cold wind in England this year and the boy used this as an excuse to busy himself in the library and hide away in spare rooms when the adults denied him entry (which was rare.) He never complained however, not a single word of defiance ever left his mouth. For the library held countless books of all subjects, genres, and age so his mind was never stuck in one place or time for too long.

In the real world he was a genius- in books… he was a visitor.

He had control over whether or not he wanted the story to come to a close.

But above all, he was tired of the competition effecting the way others treated him.

Being loved was nice… but he knew it wasn't _real_ love.

Only a few people stuck out in his mind and stayed by his side.

"You know I'm going to run out of battery soon if I don't beat this!" a voice roared from across the book scattered table, slamming the small red hand held down onto the wood surface. "You think they would give you longer battery life with these things!"

"Mail, shut the hell up…" a blonde haired boy of about fourteen lay slumped in the nearby chair, gnawing on the exposed end of a Kit-Kat bar while flicking through a book for no reason at all except to look at the blocks of befuddled text. "You're going to beat it as usual, you don't have to get my attention by pretending you're going to lose. That's a shitty way of going about it."

"I'm not trying to get your attention, I'm just frustrated!" he snapped, crossing his arms and leaning against the chair backing, red hair sticking out amongst a pair of oversized goggled clinging to his forehead. "It just came out yesterday and stupid Nicks already gotten to the last level and all I have left is-"

"I don't care!"

A fresh stack of books came toppling down onto the table causing the two to jump, gazing up at the pair of owl rimmed eyes surveying them with a slight detest. They knew those eyes more than anything- everyone did.

"Lawli-"

"You guys should keep it down, people are trying to work in here." he frowned, messing with the red scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, guarding him from the libraries frosty chill. The only other clothing covering him was a long sleeved white shirt and loosely fit jeans, draping across a placid pair of pale feet beneath the access material. He appeared comfortable as usual, a skinny panda with a scarf- very little ever changed about him.

Mihael snorted in response to his words, taking another bite of chocolate. "Other than you, who actually works in here?"

Lawliette's eyes shifted but the blonde refused to follow his gaze stubbornly; he was all too aware of the tiny figure hidden near the base of the shelves, a puzzle spread out before him in pieces though his eyes reflected the finished work before it was even completed. The white curls draped about his face like a doll yet Mihael was sure nobody would ever play with such a disgusting toy- Nate was one of a kind but not fit for the blondes liking.

He was too direct- too smart.

A nuisance.

"Mihael…"

"What!?" he snapped, stuffing the rest of his chocolate into his mouth so he was spared giving an explanation to his cold stare. "Putting together a puzzle isn't work, it's playing!"

Mail didn't miss a beat. "I'm working," he raised his game above his head. "See?"

Lawliet remained silent in an attempt to avoid arguing, glancing at the figure for a moment to see if he was listening; though on the outside he appeared involved in his work, Lawliet knew better. Mihael was so loud the whole orphanage could hear him if they chose to listen.

"Fine, as long as he remains undisturbed by your own work than I'll leave you to it." he explained, collecting his books and heading toward the door. He heard the others whine in protest but he didn't feel like putting up with their pleading, eager to escape to some isolated area where it was more quiet.

"Lawliet, come on! Hanging with us is better than reading some dumb old books." Mihael shouted, leaning over the wooden chair. "You can read anytime!"

The door slammed before he could finish but the ebony haired boy heard him crystal clear, tossing his words around in his head. Mihael was about thirteen- a talker more than a thinker yet smart in his own way. His attitude was his best weapon and he used it to intimidate others though Mail seemed to be immune to it- hence the reason why he kept him close. Inside, L felt he would much rather prefer to hang out with them and talk about things that were senseless and more suited for the moment. But the books… their pages…

… they kept whispering to him.

And even more…

… something wasn't right.

As he fashioned himself in his usual position amidst a large table in a vacant room not far from his previous destination, Lawliet found himself reading the words printed out on the pages of the books in front of him but remained somewhat distant and detached. He had read nearly over five hundred books throughout his time at the orphanage and yet he still felt he knew nothing of the world and the way it worked- even his imagination seemed out of reach of being understood and discovered; a map so big it couldn't fit the pages he had laid out for it. How to sew, how to weed, the life and work of Lewis Carroll, the History of Western Europe, Magic Tricks, medicine… he knew all of it but something was still… missing.

He fixed each mistake- every book was littered with spots of ink, crossed out words and circled letters that were unnecessarily abbreviated or capitalized. Lawliet never really knew why he did it, perhaps he was determined to prove that the book was somehow his own- to show that he had made a difference in the story that had already been written by another. Just because someone else created it didn't mean he couldn't change it- a reader shouldn't be limited to reading alone.

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'No one should be limited…' he thought, drawing letters into the wood table with the tip of his pen, ignoring the mess of ink. The isolation was making him worse and he wondered why he tormented himself in such a fashion when there was clearly something wrong with him. He was so determined to find the answer in books, but what if this was just a way of escape?

What… exactly was he looking for?

"Lawliet."

The boy hung his head over the back end of the chair like a limp doll, eyes wide and watery. A pair of old, withered eyes stared back at him with a silent sense of understanding only he could feel welcomed by.

"Watari." the soft footsteps stopped until they were directly behind him and for a small moment he felt a sense of comfort, ignoring the books for once. The man he had welcomed was rather aged, a grandfather of sorts yet Lawliet had always been rather close to him. He had started this orphanage in the first place… without him he would have never found a home.

But he was still…

"How are you doing?" Watari asked quietly, a steady hand resting on the boys shoulder. He wasn't used to such contact and the touch made him quiver a little but he chose to answer for the sake of his sanity, knowing if anyone could help, it would be his founder.

"I'm… rather stumped you see." he started, staring up at him with headlight rimmed eyes.

Silence followed his words but for once it was comforting; the man peered down at him in a caring fashion, as if drinking in the truth hidden behind the marble sized pupils. It didn't take him long to noticed the confliction.

"Well I guess this is rather serious." he answered slowly, still surveying the panda fashioned boy behind his spectacles. He gave his thin shoulder a soft squeeze. "What seems to be troubling you?"

Lawliet opened his mouth but no sound came out, feeling his frustration build upon giving the chance to explain properly. How could one explain something that they couldn't understand? Even a sixteen year old genius had his flaws but only Watari seemed willing to accept them. "I'm … confused, Watari." his thumb planted itself in between his teeth and he bit down tightly, eyes straying toward the refuge of his books. "I'm trying to find something but I don't exactly know what it is I'm trying to find."

The mans brow furrowed in response. "Yes… yes, that is a rather difficult predicament to be in."

"But it's so foolish Watari, how can I expect to find something if I don't know what it is I'm trying to find?" he was annoyed at himself for ever bringing up the subject, hearing the words out in the open for the first time- they sounded childish and dull. "The probability of the matter is that I could spend my whole life looking, reading book after book, and still come out without an answer." he looked up at him with a frown. "It seems like it would be a great loss if I were to continue."

Watari gave a slow nod, as if still debating on what answer he should give. "Perhaps… but maybe you should spend some time trying to discover exactly what it is you're trying to find before you continue Lawliet. Looking around aimlessly for something will only make you situation more tedious to endure."

He bit the tip of his nail off with a loud crack. "I suppose…"

"Watari."

Lawliet didn't even have to turn around to see his newest visitor, recognizing the reprimanding voice and the creak of the floorboards from the place he stood- Roger was never one to stand still for very long.

Watari's hand left his shoulder and the coldness of the room swept in to take it's absence, causing him to the wrap his scarf tighter about him; apparently his room wasn't as private as he had expected.

"Watari, they'll be about an hour tops. I've already made arrangements."

"Good, good. I'll see to it that this room gets cleaned up for their arrival." the books covering the table were stacked in the exact order the boy had carried them in and he reached out for them, hiding the scribbles and drops of ink covering the desk and floor as best he could. The sticky black substance oozed between his toes like slime but he did his best to ignore it as he gathered the books in his arms and turned to face Rodger and Watari.

"I apologize for making you leave L, but we're expecting some visitors later on. A possible new member to the orphanage."

"That's nice Rodger." he offered him a ghost of a smile before turning to leave, just making it to the doorway before a concerned voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Is there anything you would desire while I'm here L?"

A gust of wind beat against the stained glass windows, twirling the sunlight about into a fit of rainbows, tickling the skin of the boys arms. He would have dropped the books and ran to him if he would have found it appropriate, but even then he knew better.

"No, but thank you Watari."

He would figure this out on his own.

The man offered a small nod- a simple gesture yet filled with understanding only L could decipher in his withered yet strong features. "Take care then."

With his books in tow, Lawliet made his way into the hall while the men talked amongst themselves, their voices muffled by the slam of the door. He stared at it with blank eyes as the wind continued to howl amidst the stretch of corridor despite the bright and cheerful weather- the silence was somewhat deafening for once. L's thoughts were the loudest thing in the area.

"Strange…" his mind continued to buzz as he headed back to the library, somewhat anticipating Mihael and Mails company. The adults were more informative but their rebellious nature actually gave him a reason to preach. Though they complained about his constant reading habit they always asked for a brief summary of what he was reading at the current time and he gave them the proper insight, using his words and tone to give a proper re-telling. It made everything seem so real…

But he still had to solve his 'problem.'

Lawliet pushed the door open with his back, his ebony hair hanging limply around his ashen face as he entered the unfortunately now deserted library, a collection of candy wrappers littering the floor beneath the table where a devious little blonde had once resided.

Sighing, the boy sauntered over to the table and dropped his books onto the cluttered surface, picking up the wrappers and placing them in his pocket to throw away at a later time. Sunlight blazed against the overstuffed shelves against the wall, tickling the bindings and warming the room. For the first time Lawliet realized exactly how little he had read over the years, noticing books he had never read before, let alone never even knew existed. Even if he stayed at the orphanage until he was in his twenties (for he knew little of where he was headed when he turned eighteen and was forced to leave,) he was sure that he would never read every book in the library.

Then it occurred to him…

What if he never found what he was searching for?

He frowned in frustration, black eyes glowing with the afternoon light and spinning about in an act of panic. He folded his arms against his chest insecurely, pacing about in an attempt to distract himself from a situation that was as hopeless as the shoes he refused to wear each passing day. He was wasting time trying to figure out the inevitable- there was work he had to finish, crimes he had to solve, a career he had to pursue.

Time was not on his side- the world couldn't wait.

Something hard and dry connected with the bottom of his naked foot and he glanced down, noting the collection of puzzle pieces littering the floor and pulled a lost piece from the pad of his foot.

"Nate…"

Lawliette spoke his name allowed in hopes of luring him out of the shadows but the library was utterly and completely deserted, ghost like in its own way yet coated in the angelic light of day. The puzzle remained incomplete amongst the other pieces yet a picture could vaguely be seen forming, an image even Lawliet couldn't quite make out in it's early stages of construction.

Everyone had something to enjoy- Lawliet had books, Nate had puzzles…

Mihael and Mail…

… well theirs was obvious.

But was reading really an enjoyment? Perhaps it was just the fact that he was trying to find the answer to the inevitable. But what would happen if he found the answer?

Would books… would books be useless?

He would be left with nothing- nothing would define him.

So if nothing could define him would he therefore cease to exist?

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'To not exist…'

The thought was frightening though he knew it was impossible. He would still be alive, a living, breathing, body with a soul but not a person. He would just exist and go about life without searching for any answer, not wanting to achieve any goals, just live life without a purpose. He would be nothing- a nobody. But if he continued to search for the answer to something he had no idea about, than wouldn't his life be pointless also?

Was he, L Lawliet… simply pointless and nonexistent?

The puzzle piece in his hand began to shake, his knuckles whitening as a terrible pain bolted through his chest, digging its ravaged claws into the surface of his trembling heart. For a moment his orb shaped eyes widened in misunderstanding, unable to react to the pain rendering his body helpless, his lungs struggling for breath which he couldn't acquire without the help of his heart. It was stopping… his heart was stopping… stopping…stopped…

In the silence of the library the boy crumpled to the floor without a word, the puzzle pieces scattered beneath him, books littering the ground. His mind screamed as he struggled to process his last vanishing thoughts before the darkness took him, and he stared at the pillars of light spilling across the ground like stars, wishing for an explanation.

Books…puzzles… they couldn't help him.

Than what could?

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'Just another question… to answer,' he thought before the darkness swallowed him and what shine he had managed to gather in his ebony tinted eyes faded away into nothing.

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Arrow: I wanted to challenge myself and make an AU completely and totally warped from the original Death Note storyline and this is the beginning of my final result. I would say that this is a sort of _Alice in Wonderland/ Mirrormask/ Pagemaster _type deal but it only serves as inspiration. Everything else comes from my head.

As I mentioned in my other story, please refrain from sending comments and questions concerning the future of 'Broken English' in your reviews for this story. Broken English will be updated and do to a issue with the plot which I discovered upon the draft of my thirteenth chapter (coincidence?) I was forced to re-write the chapters I have not yet posted (thankfully, or it would have been a mess.) Please review and let me know what you think!


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